


lovers in the backseat

by jessicawhitly



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Car Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 11:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: A full house means no alone time. So Joyce takes matters into her own hands.





	lovers in the backseat

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt car sex! Pretty much what it says on the tin.

It was just supposed to be a grocery run.

They had a full house- Jonathan was home from college and Nancy seemed to be over nearly constantly to be with him, along with Will and El, which meant Mike and Max, and then the rest of the party just seemed to follow, which now almost always included Steve and Robin. Even with their new, bigger house, it was a lot of people in a confined space.

“We’re going to the store. Don’t burn the house down!” Joyce had called over her shoulder as she practically shoved Hopper out the door, leaving Will and Steve playing Atari, the rest of the kids crowded around the television. Hopper lifts an eyebrow when she doesn’t relinquish the keys, but settles into the passenger seat of the Blazer, turning the heat on high once she has the keys in the ignition.

“We went grocery shopping three days ago,” Hopper observes quietly, amusement staining his deep tone, and Joyce shoots him a look before she backs out of the driveway, heading in the opposite direction of town.

“And it’s officially been six days since we’ve had sex. I love our kids, but I need your dick,” she tells him bluntly, and he swallows thickly, all the blood in his body starting to redirect itself south.

“Where exactly are you taking us?” he asks, one of his hands coming up to play with the end of her ponytail, thumb tracing the base of her neck. Joyce keeps her eyes on the road, but he watches as her lips curl up into a smirk.

“I have it on good authority the Chief of Police isn’t out patrolling tonight, so we’re gonna park by the woods, climb into the backseat, and we aren’t leaving until I have at least two orgasms,” she answers, and Hopper barks out a laugh around the surge of arousal that floods his brain.

He slides closer to her, bringing both hands into the mix; he drops his mouth to her neck, pressing openmouthed kisses along the line of it as one hand slid up her torso until he can cup one of her breasts. Joyce’s breathing picks up as she focuses on driving, and he gets more daring- slips his hand under her shirt, unclipping her bra and giving a groan of appreciation as her breasts dangle free.

His fingers pinch one nipple, twisting lightly until Joyce moans, one hand leaving the steering wheel to cup the back of his head, holding him against her neck. He’s probably leaving a mark- he’s got a decent amount of stubble accumulated, the late spring weather still cold enough to warrant the covering on his face, but Joyce doesn’t complain, just pushes him closer.

Hopper slides his hand down until he can cup her between her thighs, and the gasp Joyce lets out cuts through him to the point where he sinks his teeth into her clothed shoulder, groaning her name.

“Pull over,” he demands, voice strained. “ _Now._ ”

“Yeah,” she replies, voice high and breathless, a wild look in her eyes as she looks around, pulling over into a wooded area, tucking the Blazer into a clearing just off the road where it hopefully wouldn’t be seen. “Backseat?”

Hopper answers by opening the passenger door immediately and getting into the back; Joyce shuts the truck off and follows immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and finding his mouth once the doors are shut, trapping the lingering warmth with him as his hands fall to her hips. They settle with Hopper sitting on the backseat with Joyce straddling his lap, and she loses her shirt within minutes, her unclasped bra disappearing with the cotton t-shirt.

“Fuck I missed your tits,” Hopper groans, face buried in said tits, and Joyce moan-laughs, hands in his hair. “I ever tell you how perfect they are? God damn incredible craftsmanship.”

Joyce fully laughs at that, shoving at his head, and Hopper grins up at her lazily, tweaking both her nipples in his hands. She sighs, the sound building into a keen as he twists both wrists, and squeezes both of her breasts in his hands. Her hips shift against his, still encased in her jeans, and Hopper gives a groan at the friction they create.

“Still waiting on an orgasm over here,” Joyce reminds him, breathless, and Hopper lifts an eyebrow at the challenge before he attacks the button of her jeans, shoving at the denim until she lifts her hips, and he can tug them away from her body. She’s left in pale blue cotton, visibly damp at the junction of her thighs, and he presses two fingers to the damp spot, pulling a moan from her.

He shifts her slightly until he can get the panties off, leaving her bare, and skates his hand back down between her thighs to where she’s absolutely soaking wet. His fingertips skate through the slickness, gathering it from her slit until he can rub circles into her clit. Joyce cries out, fingers digging into his shoulders as she rocks into his touch, and Hopper nudges her jaw with his nose, kissing her pulse point.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, and Joyce whimpers, hips jolting at the slip of two of his fingers inside of her. “Easy, there, Horowitz. Take a breath for me, sweetheart.”

Joyce is nearly trembling with the effort of controlling herself, and she shudders as she takes a breath, meeting his eyes. Hopper nods once she stops biting her lip, and pulls his fingers out until only the tips remain, then slams them back in as his thumb presses tightly to her clit. That pulls a shout from Joyce, her forehead falling to his as her hips start to find a rhythm against his hand.

“Fuck,” is all she manages to get out before her vocabulary dissolves into whimpers and moans and his name, panted out against his neck as her head falls forward, too heavy to hold up as she rides his hand. He groans as she tightens around his fingers, and manages to maneuver a third digit into her, the stretch pushing her over the edge with a gush that soaks down his wrist and has her collapsing against him, positively wrecked.

“I think we can call that a successful first orgasm,” he teases quietly once she’s caught her breath, and Joyce giggles, lifting herself to kiss him as she unclenches from around his fingers, moaning as he withdraws them. Lifting them to his face, he licks away the wetness dripping down his arm, and Joyce’s eyes go wide as she watches, pupils blown wide in arousal. “Can’t really get my mouth on you in here. Damn shame.”

Joyce’s response is to attack his belt with a vengeance, undoing the zipper and urging him to lift his hips so she can get the khakis down past his knees. His boxers are heavily tented, a wet spot blooming across the cornflower cotton, and Joyce is quick to pull him out, fingers wrapping around him to give a few quick pumps.

He barely has time to groan before Joyce has him in her mouth, and his hands fall to her hair. He tugs it out of the messy ponytail, running his fingers through the thick brunette strands and trying not to tug too hard when Joyce starts to get into a rhythm.

“Babe- baby. If you want that second orgasm, you gotta stop,” he tells her, voice tight, when he starts to feel the heat build in the pit of his stomach. Joyce looks up at him, lips red and swollen and still parted as she pulls back, and in an instant Hopper is tugging her up to straddle his lap, fingers between her thighs once more. “So wet for me.”

“Please, Hop, just fuck me,” she breathes out, and with no further preamble, Hopper lines himself up and pushes in, planting his feet on the floor of the Blazer and using his position for leverage as Joyce’s cunt spasms around him, warm and wet.

“This what you needed, sweetheart?” he asks, hands on her hips to help guide her as Joyce’s nails dig into his biceps, letting him move her. She nods, eyes sinking shut as her head tips back.

“Missed your cock,” she murmurs, groaning when he changes the angle and hits deeper, moving one thumb to stroke over her clit. “Mm, _Jim._ ”

The Blazer shifts under them with the force of their movements, but all Hopper can focus on is getting Joyce off again- she cries out, grip on him tightening as he hits the spot inside of her that always made her come undone. He squeezes her hips, sure to leave bruises on her pale skin that will coordinate nicely with the divots she’s leaving on him.

“C’mon, Joyce. Come for me,” he tilts her chin up with two fingers, and she forces her eyes open, meeting his just as she tips over the edge, his name leaving her lips in a cry that sends a shiver down his spine. She collapses against him, panting, and plants kisses along his collarbone. “I do believe that’s two orgasms, m’lady.”

“Go for the gold, baby. Take us home,” she tells him, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and bringing her mouth to his, kissing him soundly as he picks up the pace again, moving her hips in time with his as his rhythm starts to fall apart. Heat wells inside him as Joyce murmurs encouragements around kisses, and when he breaks, spilling inside her, she catches her own name with her mouth, hands cupping his ears gently.

“Think we may need to sleep out here,” Hopper observes once they’ve caught their breath, Joyce still curled up in his lap, though slightly more sprawled, her head on his shoulder and fingers playing with his chest hair. She snorts, lifting her head to play with his mustache.

“We do still have about a dozen kids at our house,” she reminds him, and he groans. “And we should probably go to the store so they don’t all think we escaped the house to have sex in the car.”

“But we _did_ escape the house to have sex in the car.”

Joyce shoots him a look as she puts her bra back on, rooting around on the floor for her underwear. Hopper sighs, but starts reluctantly looking for his own clothing.

They’re just restarting the car when the patrol car pulls over next to them, and Hopper resists the urge to groan.

“Everything alright, Chief?” Callahan asks, and Hopper waves him off from his position in the driver’s seat now, forcing a smile.

“Just fine, Callahan. Thought we had a flat tire, but we’re fine,” he answers, and waves the other cop off. Joyce is smothering her laughter into her palm in the passenger seat, and he turns, lifting an eyebrow.

“I mean, I did say only the _Chief_ wasn’t out patrolling tonight.”


End file.
